Part 18 (1/2)

When we were done, Nate went to the kitchen to make us some cocoa. He joined me on the couch a few minutes later with a mug for each of us, and a plate of cookies. ”Those look homemade,” I told him, already imagining him in a frilly ap.r.o.n whipping up a batch of cookies.

”You can stop that right now,” he said, as if reading my mind. ”My mom sent these this morning.”

He turned all the lamps off in the apartment so the only light was coming from the tree. You could barely tell we had phoned it in with the strings of lights; with the ornaments on, the tree looked perfect.

”Come here,” Nate said, pulling me against him on the couch. I snuggled against his chest, subconsciously finding the now familiar place where I fit perfectly.

”Thank you for doing this with me,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

”Thank you for making me,” I told him.

”You had fun, didn't you?” he asked. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell that he was smiling.

”Yeah,” I whispered. ”I had a lot of fun.”

We stayed like that for a long time, sitting in front of the tree with the music playing softly, Nate's arms around me. I snuggled closer to him, feeling happy. Feeling so happy that it scared me.

Chapter Twenty-three.

*Are you the type of girl who always puts her girlfriends first? While those relations.h.i.+ps should be precious to you, it is essential that you learn to put your man first. No self-respecting gentleman wants to play second fiddle to your female friends!'-The Single Girl's Guide to Finding True Love ”Nate, it's Annie,” I said after Nate's voicemail had picked up. ”Listen, I know we had talked about hanging out tonight, but I have to cancel. Jen and Ginny both have the morning off tomorrow, which never happens. So we're going out tonight. Sorry, babe. I'll make it up to you, okay? Call me.”

I hung up, feeling a slight twinge of regret. Since the show had started its run, I was pretty tied up most weekends. With Nate working late most weeknights, we weren't seeing each as much as we would have liked.

But I hadn't seen the girls in even longer, so it was really no contest.

Ginny came over to get ready with us, and it was almost like old times. Tina had already moved out, and it was feeling more like our house again. I was determined to enjoy it until Matt moved in.

I had agreed to Jen's plan, feeling like I didn't really have much choice. It didn't seem ideal for me, but what could I do? Tell Jen no, we needed to find another roommate? What if she decided she wanted to live with Matt more than me? What would I do then?

Besides, if the show did end up going to Chicago, I wouldn't be around for awhile. And I couldn't leave Jen in the lurch like that. So Matt had begun the process of buying the house from our landlord, who was happy enough to get it off his hands in this market. They were closing in two weeks.

I tried to push all of that out of my mind, though. Tonight was girls' night, and I was really excited.

”What do you think about this?” Ginny asked, coming out of the bathroom in a flowing, frumpy prairie dress.

”Where the h.e.l.l did you get that thing?” I asked her.

”It was in your closet,” she responded.

I squinted at it, and in fact did remember buying it last summer. But I usually wore it with a scarf belted around the waist, to make it look less...voluminous. And I certainly never wore it with a cardigan, the way Ginny was now.

”It's not really you, Gin,” I told her, struggling to be polite and wis.h.i.+ng Jen would hurry up and get out here. She was much better at this type of thing. I was more likely to tell Ginny that she looked ridiculous.

”I just feel like all of my clothes are too immature,” she said, sighing. ”I still dress like I'm in college. I mean, I'm a mom now. Shouldn't I be dressing like it?”

”Okay, who the h.e.l.l are you and what did you do with my best friend?” I asked, unable to play polite anymore. Ginny was the most fas.h.i.+on-conscious girl I knew. Her favorite pastime in the world was to troll through sample sales and resale stores to get her hands on designer stuff that fit her budget. She didn't dress s.l.u.tty, but she did like to show off her figure-and I couldn't blame her there.

”Josh's mom said something to me,” she said, walking into my room and flopping down on the bed.”

”Mrs. Stanley?” I asked, feeling angry at the very mention of her name. That woman had very nearly ruined Ginny's life, not to mention Danny's.

”She was over yesterday; they'd been on vacation and she wanted to drop off some presents for Josh and Danny. Anyhow, she gave me this frumpy old sweats.h.i.+rt from Miami Beach. I mean, who goes to Miami and comes back with a sweats.h.i.+rt?”

”Evil old hags,” I said, eager for her to get to the juicy part.

”Yeah, you're telling me. So basically after she gives it to me she looks me over, totally judgmental, and says something about how she thought of me when she saw it because she figured I'd be grateful for something more appropriate.”

”G.o.d, what a b.i.t.c.h,” I said. ”Where was Josh when this was going on?”

”Outside with his dad, looking at his car. He's been having carburetor trouble.”

”Did you tell him what she said?”

Ginny just shrugged. ”He would only get mad. Their relations.h.i.+p is bad enough as it is.”

Josh, to his credit, had not forgiven his parents for their meddling. They rarely saw them, and I knew Ginny felt guilty about this.

”Virgina McKensie, it is not your fault that his mother is a horrible witch,” I said firmly. ”Don't you go feeling guilty for what she did. And for G.o.d's sake, don't listen to a word she says. She's just jealous that she's a dried-up old hag while you're still hot, even after having a baby. So screw her, okay?”

”You're right,” Ginny said, giving me a watery little smile. ”I just don't want to embarra.s.s Danny when he gets bigger. I don't want to be one of those middle-aged women who still think they're teenagers.”

”When you start wearing tube tops to the playground I promise I'll put a stop to it, okay?”

”Deal,” she said.

”Now please, take that dress off and throw it away. I can never look at it the same way again.”

In the end, Ginny picked a black tank top dotted with sequins. She paired it with a pair of tight boot-cut jeans and tall black heels. Needless to say, she was a total knockout-and not the least bit inappropriate.

”You look great,” she said, looking me over.

My tastes were a bit more eclectic than my friends, and I had settled on a vintage sixties-style dress that I had ordered online. It was very mod and I loved it.

”I feel dressed down next to the two of you,” Jen said once she'd joined us, looking down at her black pants and white b.u.t.ton-up top.

”Add some jewelry,” Ginny advised, apparently over her fas.h.i.+on crisis and ready to be our guru again. ”That will dress it up. And for G.o.d's sake, unb.u.t.ton a few of those b.u.t.tons.”

We ended up at a Mexican restaurant that we all liked. They served huge margaritas (the basis of their appeal) and kept free refills coming on their homemade tortillas and salsa.

”So, only two more weeks of the run,” Jen said after she had sampled her margarita. ”Are you sad or relieved?”

”I guess that depends on what happens next,” I said.

”Still no word on Chicago?”